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fiercynn · 2 months

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okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.

here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.

and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!

and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.

and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?

maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:

continuing to send arms to israel

putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships

bombing yemen

bombing syria

bombing iraq

vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations

testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice

refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza

halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this

lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)

questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)

perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital

questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same

honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add

or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.

and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.

#fuck biden #u.s. politics #free palestine #genocide #covid #immigrant justice #prison abolition #police abolition #ableism #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

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screamingfromuz · 6 months

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Hi there! I am reaching out because someone sent me a question about how to help Gazan civilians without accidentally helping Hamas or spreading more hate against Israelis. I honestly feel lost on this myself, but as far as I can tell you are someone who has done real activism in Israel. Do you have suggestions for diaspora Jews who want to help fight for peace?

So a small disclaimer to the Gaza problem. We have 2 main problems with getting aid into Gaza, the first is the limited amount of aid that is allowed in, sending more money cannot make it go in faster. Problem number 2 is that much of the physical aid ends in Hamas's hands or in the black market and there is nothing we can do with that. I have heard recommendations to wait and see who opens a field hospital on the Rafah border crossing, and donate to them. Despite that, here are some charities to help Palestinians both in and out of Gaza.

I will admit, most of my activism is focused on deradicalization on the Israeli side and solidarity work, so I had to ask around for some of those charities. Some of the groups I know of do not currently have an international donation link, so if I get more good ones, I'll make another post.

Gaza:

Medical aid for Palestinians-

Anera-

Doctors without borders-

Palestinians outside of Gaza and Peace movements:

Palestinian red Crescent- they also work in Gaza, but as the main source for Palestinian ambulances in the WB, I put them here.

mistaclim (Looking the occupation the the eye)- this group is helping to protect Palestinians from the illegal settlers

Keshet- this is a big one. they support Bedouin communities in normal times, and now they are working on getting bomb shelters to the unrecognized villages, and providing a mental health first aid line.

standing together- totally biased, as I am a member of this organization.

Women wage peace- a feminist based solidarity group

Haqel- they represents Palestinians in cases related to land ownership and access. there work is still ongoing even during the war

Center for Jewish non Violence - a diaspora org that also does a lot of work in the South Hebron Hills.

#israel #palestine #donation links #ask uz #i/p

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bouncybongfairy · 2 months

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Could you do a live action Zuko x reader, they were betrothed to eachother before his banishment. They frequently had visits and got along really well. First time they met he saw her creating a blue butterfly from her fire bending. The reader can produce blue flames but is a gentle, kind person. Zuko is reading the latest letter she has sent him, praying for his safety and health. How does he feel about them after all this time? Maybe this fuel his fire to complete his quest and get home.

See You Soon

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader

Summary: Both Zuko and can't stop thinking about each other, after reading the most recent letters you sent to each other.

Word Count: 2.0k

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It’s been some time since the last time you’d seen Zuko face to face. Ever since his banishment, so about three years. You’d think those wounds would have healed, a betrothal that was nothing more than a concept faded in time. Anyone who’d know you would say you were well past it, those people obviously weren’t paying close enough attention. Sending each other letters, drawings and pressed flowers. Detailing everything unfolding in his quest to find the Avatar. Her day to day life with school and helping your mom with all the tailoring for the Fire Lord’s family. A very important part in your life considering your family had been tailoring in the palace for generations. Every once in a while you’d send him an embroidered Lion to represent power and leadership, hiding his name tiny within the mane. Although you found comfort in the words of reassurance he gave through ink and paper, it only made you long for something more. Reminiscing on all the precious memories that now feel like they were taken for granted.

The two of you met by chance, your mother worked in the palace. She made all the clothes for the royal family. Often having you assist, holding her pin cushion or any other request she may have. At first not paying each other much attention, one day Azula came in, berating both your mother and self like she did to all other staff. Hearing horror stories from others in the palace made you terrified of her. The last thing you wanted was to get your family banished for looking at her wrong. Zuko noticed this, and nudged your arm; looking over at her and then rolling his eyes. Giving you a reassuring smile, Azula then nudged your shoulder with hers as she walked out.

“That girl may be a princess by blood line but not respect from her people. She rules with fear when it should be grace,” you mother grumbled as you walked into the house.

“That may be true but it must be hard, growing up competing for the throne. Having your entire life mapped out for you even before you’re born. That must be so hard on someone so young, I think I'd break,” pulling your hair out of the tight bun. Your mother smiled, setting the bags on the table. Cupping your face in her hands,

“I love that in a nation so pitiless and jaded that you have kept your soft spirit. You know that, but that girl spoiled down to the soul,” your mother laughs before turning back to her bags.

You laugh and walk into your bedroom to change before heading back outside. The weather was perfect to practice your fire bending. One of the perks of having a mother who worked in the palace was better education for you. Now that you had been learning to bend from a master, you were able to do more than you could ever imagine. At school all you learned was combat or defensive bending. At home, you liked practicing making different shapes. At the beginning it was simple stuff like circles or hearts, with time they were getting more intricate. Being able to make things like flowers, birds and even butterflies. You were in the empty field behind your family's home, working on your bending. You’d finally learned to make the butterfly flap its wings and fly around for a couple moments at a time before dissipating. Taking a deep breath and creating the flames, putting all your focus into manipulating its form. Holding your breath nervously as you watch it fly around you. The blue light glowing off the flame lit Zuko's face up, where he was watching from a couple feet away. You gasped out of surprise and backed away.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to- when Azula nudged you, this fell off your top. I just wanted to return it,” he said, holding out the embroidered patch of a crabapple tree that was pinned to your top.

“Oh, thank you. Wow I'm really surprised you took the time to return it, as someone with so much responsibility; it’s an honor,” you say, giving him a quick bow out of respect.

“I’ve only seen masters create such detailed shapes with blue flame, can I help?” he asks, you nod in agreement as he comes closer. He stands behind you, pressing his chest against your back. Nudging your arms up with his hands telling you to create the flame before continuing,

“Holding your breath limits the amount of time your fire can stay in the air. Like suffocating a candle with its lid. Fire can’t be without oxygen, can you feel my breathing against your back? Match it to yours then try to make the butterfly,” he said.

You were so nervous but took a deep breath in before matching the rise and fall of his chest. Immediately you could feel the difference, like you had more control over the flames. Being able to make the wing movements sharp and clean. Making the flame circle around the two of you, forcing your bodies closer together.

“See, isn't that so much better?” he asked.

“Yeah, I never thought I could have so much control over my bending,” you said, moving to face him.

“I have to get back but i’ll see you around?” he asked, as he took off in a rush which made you chuckle.

After that night, it was like fate just couldn’t keep the two of you apart. He was getting fitted more often for leather armor and things like that. Noticing each other in lessons and sneaking glances. This progressed until eventually Zuko became unbothered with who saw the two of you interacting. One day he slipped a note into your bag, wanting to meet later that night. Your heart skipped a beat of course, and for the rest of the day it was all you could think about. The day seemed so much longer now that you had something to look forward to. Practically skipping home from lessons, even though you still had a couple hours before dark. You were happy to be home daydreaming. Your mom was home, cooking komodo chicken. Giving her a kiss on the cheek before heading off to your bedroom. Originally you were going to wear what you always did but part of you felt like the night was too special for your everyday attire. Normally keeping your hair up in a tight bun, you decide to let it down. It took you a while to convince yourself to leave it down but eventually you did.

Everyone was finally asleep, the house dark and quiet. You sneak out the window of your bedroom. Zuko was waiting for you right outside which made you gasp, not seeing it was him at first. He had a big smile on his face, which was refreshing considering he’s been going through alot lately. On a night with such amazing weather, the main city and markets were busy with life. Zuko and you however prefer the peacefulness of looking over the city from the peak of a hill not too far. Zuko was pointing out different constellations in the sky to you. Or showing him new little tricks you were learning with your bending. He always acted really impressed but you knew he was doing it for your benefit. You loved that about him, that he cared so much about your confidence.

“You know, my father says it’s time to start looking for a girl to betroth,” he says.

“Oh? Any girls you had in mind?” you ask playfully.

“No,” he says back in the same playful tone, which makes you elbow him in his ribs.

“In all seriousness though, how do you feel about that?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“I think I'm waiting for you to ask me properly,” you said chuckling.

Zuko also felt like he took all these moments for granted. He was currently in his room on the ship. Looking around at all the notes and drawings he’d pinned to the walls. They’d just left where he and his crew were docked, following a lead on the Avatar. Reading the most recent letter you’d sent him, it pained him to know you were feeling the same grief he was about feeling apart. He never really talked about it to his uncle or anyone but it was one of the main reasons he was so motivated to complete his quest. He felt like he was missing out on the most important years of his life. Uncle Iroh always talks about how memorable his late youth was, before he had real responsibilities as general. He missed everything about you. Especially how sweet you were, always finding the good in people. Even finding beauty and grace in Azula; his own mother couldn’t find that in her.

Often when Zuko was anxious he would think about you comforting him. He knew he could be hot headed both emotionally and physically. This never phased you, even when he was in full blown flames. Always finding a way to calm you down. Somehow reassuring him without making him feel small or stupid. You always used to tell him that anger is a form of passion. That you loved the passion and resilience he had, and that one day he’d be able to channel it without anger. He found so much comfort in you so being ripped away was hard but reading your letters helped. Made him feel like everything wasn’t as impossible as it may seem. Like once he returns home he’ll know you’ll be there to support him.

He laid back on his bed, your letter on his chest. Worried that you’d grow tired feeling his love through paper and ink. That you’d yearn for love that’s more present in your everyday life. This fear was doubled by the fact that he assumed telling you about this fear would make him come across as insecure. Maybe he was but he didn’t want you to know that. He hated being seen as weak, you were too kind to admit but he knows that exactly what you’d think. Currently thinking about one of the last nights you had together. In Zuko’s old room, laying on the bed together. You were playing with his hair and he had his arms wrapped around your waist. Both of you were pretty tired from training and school. Just melting into each other, enjoying the comfort you gave him. There wasn’t any talking but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. You’d kiss him on his forehead every once in a while, finger combing his hair. Taking in your smell and leaning into your touch. He never felt so vulnerable in a comforting way with someone.

Iroh came into the room, making Zuko jump up. Clutching onto his letter, immediately his uncle sensed something was off. His eyes were dark and puffy, not to mention quite red. The bruise on his face appeared to be swelling and it was obvious that he was beyond his limit. Iroh set down the wooden tray he carried in, handing him a cup.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but mentally you are being strained. Bending and combat is easy for you because you’ve done it your whole life. Emotionally, some of your muscles are weak but I can see your slowly strengthening them. It’s important that you get lots of rest while you-” he went to look over at Zuko and stopped talking once he realized the boy was asleep. Iroh held back a laugh before taking the cup and letter out of his hands. Zuko gripped the paper and woke up but settled down once he realized it was him.

“Rest now, and please truly let yourself rest,” he said, pulling the blanket over him and he laid down. Folding the letter gently and leaving it on the nightstand.

#prince zuko fanfic #netflix avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar live action #avatar last airbender #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x y/n #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x you

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spocks-kaathyra · 8 months

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thoughts about the Cardassian writing system

I've thinking about the Cardassian script as shown on screen and in beta canon and such and like. Is it just me or would it be very difficult to write by hand?? Like.

I traced some of this image for a recent drawing I did and like. The varying line thicknesses?? The little rectangular holes?? It's not at all intuitive to write by hand. Even if you imagine, like, a different writing implement—I suppose a chisel-tip pen would work better—it still seems like it wasn't meant to be handwritten. Which has a few possible explanations.

Like, maybe it's just a fancy font for computers, and handwritten text looks a little different. Times New Roman isn't very easily written by hand either, right? Maybe the line thickness differences are just decorative, and it's totally possible to convey the same orthographic information with the two line thicknesses of a chisel-tip pen, or with no variation in line thickness at all.

A more interesting explanation, though, and the one I thought of first, is that this writing system was never designed to be handwritten. This is a writing system developed in Cardassia's digital age. Maybe the original Cardassian script didn’t digitize well, so they invented a new one specifically for digital use? Like, when they invented coding, they realized that their writing system didn’t work very well for that purpose. I know next to nothing about coding, but I cannot imagine doing it using Chinese characters. So maybe they came up with a new writing system that worked well for that purpose, and when computer use became widespread, they stuck with it.

Or maybe the script was invented for political reasons! Maybe Cardassia was already fairly technologically advanced when the Cardassian Union was formed, and, to reinforce a cohesive national identity, they developed a new standardized national writing system. Like, y'know, the First Emperor of Qin standardizing hanzi when he unified China, or that Korean king inventing hangul. Except that at this point in Cardassian history, all official records were digital and typing was a lot more common than handwriting, so the new script was designed to be typed and not written. Of course, this reform would be slower to reach the more rural parts of Cardassia, and even in a technologically advanced society, there are people who don't have access to that technology. But I imagine the government would be big on infrastructure and education, and would make sure all good Cardassian citizens become literate. And old regional scripts would stop being taught in schools and be phased out of digital use and all the kids would grow up learning the digital script.

Which is good for the totalitarian government! Imagine you can only write digitally. On computers. That the government can monitor. If you, like, write a physical letter and send it to someone, then it's possible for the contents to stay totally private. But if you send an email, it can be very easily intercepted. Especially if the government is controlling which computers can be manufactured and sold, and what software is in widespread use, etc.

AND. Historical documents are now only readable for scholars. Remember that Korean king that invented hangul? Before him, Korea used to use Chinese characters too. And don't get me wrong, hangul is a genius writing system! It fits the Korean language so much better than Chinese characters did! It increased literacy at incredible rates! But by switching writing systems, they broke that historical link. The average literate Chinese person can read texts that are thousands of years old. The average literate Korean person can't. They'd have to specifically study that field, learn a whole new writing system. So with the new generation of Cardassian youths unable to read historical texts, it's much easier for the government to revise history. The primary source documents are in a script that most people can't read. You just trust the translation they teach you in school. In ASIT it's literally a crucial plot point that the Cardassian government revised history! Wouldn't it make it soooo much easier for them if only very few people can actually read the historical accounts of what happened.

I guess I am thinking of this like Chinese characters. Like, all the different Chinese "dialects" being written with hanzi, even though otherwise they could barely be considered the same language. And even non-Sinitic languages that historically adopted hanzi, like Japanese and Korean and Vietnamese. Which worked because hanzi is a logography—it encodes meaning, not sound, so the same word in different languages can be written the same. It didn’t work well! Nowadays, Japanese has made significant modifications and Korean has invented a new writing system entirely and Vietnamese has adapted a different foreign writing system, because while hanzi could write their languages, it didn’t do a very good job at it. But the Cardassian government probably cares more about assimilation and national unity than making things easier for speakers of minority languages. So, Cardassia used to have different cultures with different languages, like the Hebitians, and maybe instead of the Union forcing everyone to start speaking the same language, they just made everyone use the same writing system. Though that does seem less likely than them enforcing a standard language like the Federation does. Maybe they enforce a standard language, and invent the new writing system to increase literacy for people who are newly learning it.

And I can imagine it being a kind of purely digital language for some people? Like if you’re living on a colonized planet lightyears away from Cardassia Prime and you never have to speak Cardassian, but your computer’s interface is in Cardassian and if you go online then everyone there uses Cardassian. Like people irl who participate in the anglophone internet but don’t really use English in person because they don’t live in an anglophone country. Except if English were a logographic writing system that you could use to write your own language. And you can’t handwrite it, if for whatever reason you wanted to. Almost a similar idea to a liturgical language? Like, it’s only used in specific contexts and not really in daily life. In daily life you’d still speak your own language, and maybe even handwrite it when needed. I think old writing systems would survive even closer to the imperial core (does it make sense to call it that?), though the government would discourage it. I imagine there’d be a revival movement after the Fire, not only because of the cultural shift away from the old totalitarian Cardassia, but because people realize the importance of having a written communication system that doesn’t rely on everyone having a padd and electricity and wifi.

#if I read over this again I will inevitably want to change and add things so I'm refraining from doing that. enjoy whatever this is #forgive my very crude recounting of chinese and korean history! I am neither a historian nor a linguist #but I will NOT apologize for talking abt china so much. that's my culture and I'm weird abt it bc of my family history #and it's my GOD GIVEN RIGHT to project what little I know abt it onto all my worldbuilding #also I've never actually read abt any of the various cardassian conlangs but I'm curious if this contradicts or coincides with any of them #I still want to make my own someday. starting college as a linguistics major (in 2 weeks!!) so presumably I will learn how to do that #narcissus's echoes #ds9 #asit #star trek #cardassians #cardassian meta #a stitch in time #hebitians

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fatphobiabusters · 2 months

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Hey, sorry if this is a weird question but I'm trying to learn more since I honestly wasn't educated about fatphobia before and I'm trying to fix that (especially now that I won't be a teen in a few months and my mom could be considered fat and I love food so like we all know the body type I'll have in a few years). I often see people say that being fat is bad because people like firefighters and nurses get injured when saving/caring for them and I'd like to know if there's any way to like.. fix that? I obviously don't want very poorly compensated people risking their lives to get injured more than they have to but I also don't think policing people's bodies is right...

Hmmm where to start. The thing is nurses are understaffed, often asked to move patients by themselves when they shouldn't be. It's not just fat people that can injure a nurse, anyone who can't assist on their own lifting can. Lifting say, 180 pounds from the floor is risky, Hospital beds are closer to the average person waist plus there are handles and bars for the patient to assist. Rolling a patient in bed is difficult, again if the patient can't assist. Making sure staff is getting help is crucial. They wouldn't let me move myself from the bed I was on, onto the surgery table but it was quick and took three people to properly nest me and slide me over. (I was going in for gallbladder surgery) there were multiple people who could have assisted in the room if they needed more. So really, fighting under staffing and over working in the medical field is key.

Im not as familiar with fire fighting techniques however I know that there's an issue of businesses not having Evac Chairs or sleds for the physically disabled. I'm thinking of the brand Evac Chairs but ANY such device is useful.

Im looking at the sleds:

This goes up to 440

This one goes up to 500 carrying capacity!

These should be part of fire and rescue training and provided to the rescuers for public safety. Any business that sees a large amount of foot traffic should have these on site. (I don't expect a small mom and pop shop to have one, but Walmart should. Hospitals should.)

So basically: proper training, the right equipment and proper staff. These all play a role in how to circumvent awful situations.

Also take the consideration of what these people say "it's bad to be fat because nurses and fire fighters" these types of people are one bad turn from saying "it's bad to be in a wheelchair because it's too hard for fire rescue" or "it's bad to need nurses to turn you to prevent bed sores" they think, fundamentally, that fat people choose to be fat so we deserve less empathy. And even if it was 100% a choice for every person, it doesn't mean we don't deserve care and common sense accomedations. You can't say you respect bodily autonomy and support disability rights if your support is conditional. Only supporting "the good ones" is a policy in futility.

As an aside: check your smoke detectors and reduce fire hazards. Know your exits and keep low to the floor if there's smoke. Regardless of size people get real relaxed with fire safety because it's rare it's an issue. Some basic things is all you can do so please do them or have someone your trust to do them.

-mod squirrel

#Ask #fire safety #Galaxy ace #Mod squirrel #Bodily autonomy #Fatphobia #Healthism #emergency response

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 4 months

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Oh I saw you answer a question about lecturing so I'd like to ask another! I am a postgrad student but miraculously landed a job as an instructor in my uni for an elective module on Language and Culture for Beginners for undergrads. I was all like "wohoooo that's great I know this shit" until I discovered there were going to be 20 people in my class so now I'm like 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 because it's my first time teaching and what if they eat me alive. What if no one collaborates on the module I've designed to be interactive. What if no one caressssssssssssss I'd wilt like a flower 😭

Well, the great thing about uni is, these are adult learners who want to be here and are paying a lot to do so, so the chances of total non-engagement are low and outright refusal even lower. And if they do, you're under no obligation to keep anyone in the class, so you can boot them out if they're disruptive.

(In five years, this has yet to happen to me. The closest I've come was two guys who just wanted to chat, but saying to them "Lads, I don't know if you've noticed, but someone has built a lecture hall around you" worked a charm, and then they apologised and paid attention.)

So, the odds are staggeringly in your favour that you will not be cannibalised! You'll be absolutely fine on that count.

The engagement levels - that's a more reasonable concern, though again, remember that they've chosen to be here. This isn't high school - they're interested in the subject, and in what you have to say. So, you need to just make sure you're doing all the things that boost engagement. Examples:

NOTHING ON THIS EARTH switches students off faster than when the lecturer is bored by the subject. Regardless of your personal views on any given part of the material, to them you must be visibly and obviously Super Interested In The Subject at all times.

Human attention spans experience a lapse every 10-18 minutes - this is why TED Talks are that long. Change your learning activity in time with this. If you're doing straight lecturing for 10 minutes, then throw out a question to the class - "So what is everyone's experience of this? How might this be applied to X situation? What would do do if this happened to you?" etc. Or a research task - give them 10 minutes to look up a set of terms in groups, and then report back to the class. Your next slide could be the one that then explains the definitions of those terms yourself, but it gives them a bit of variety, and a bit of self-learning

Do they look like they're flagging? Get them up and moving. Ask a question like "So which of you agree with X, which agree with Y?" Instead of hands up, make them get up and go to different sides of the room. Then ask them to explain their reasoning. (Be aware of disabilities when doing this)

Give them activities to work on in groups. It's great for applied learning anyway, but also for helping them bond with each other, and it keeps them more awake and engaged. But also:

Students are much more likely to pay attention when they can see why the material they're learning is relevant. If it feels like a filler lesson, they won't pay attention. This is one reason of many that a class of 20 will work for you, actually - that's small enough that you can get to know these students, and what fields they've come from, and what they want to move into. If one or two seem disengaged, find out how to emphasise the relevance of their fields to this course, and vice versa.

And on that note, call on their experience! That's the glory of adult education - these are people who have lived lives, even if only for 18 years. Call on that. Example: my field is the environment, but this year, we have a farmer on the course. That's an absolute gift to class discussions, because if we're talking about land management practices, she can describe the socio-economic pressures farmers are under to do poor practices in the name of Line Goes Up far better than I can.

You will learn to spot the quiet ones. These ones are listening and learning, but shit scared of standing out. You might be tempted to call on them directly to answer questions, but this will make them shrivel in an attempt to seem smaller so you won't attack. Instead, draw them in by going around the class to ask the same question, and come to the quiet ones towards the end. This gives them time to realise that the question is coming, and lets them formulate an answer; they'll also be less scared of Getting It Wrong if they see the variety of answers everyone else is giving

On that note: There Are No Stupid Questions. Not in your class. You need to actively encourage the students to think that it's a safe learning space, and that includes asking things that might be the dumbest fucking question you've ever heard in your life; doesn't matter, you still answer it with the same gravity as any other. In This House We Love And Support Each Other.

If you truly think they won't collaborate properly, the trick is to have a fall back. It's very unlikely that they won't, but just have a plan B in case.

Either way... honestly, there's a reason I always tell people that, while I'm a lecturer, I could never be a teacher. Adult education is easy mode. You'll be fine - you know your shit, you're already planning fun collaborative activities, you've got this.

And if it doesn't work out, and I mean this very genuinely and honestly - a huge part of teaching is figuring out what works and what doesn't work for the students. Your job is work out how to fit the knowledge you hold into the uniquely-shaped holes in their heads, and that will be slightly different every time. You've got them for the whole module - you can afford to take a breath and try again if they bounce off of your first attempt. That's not a sign that you can't do it - that is the job. Getting it right first time requires a big component of luck, even using the tricks above.

So. Good luck! And enjoy it - the students can also tell if you're having a blast

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

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bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Text

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Strawberries]

Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though

Length: 3.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook and Yoongi have been living together for years by now.

The older producer had taken the young dog hybrid in back when the system was a lot more complicated than it is now- requiring a hybrid to actually have an owner as a legal guardian in order to work anywhere, no matter in what field. And after getting to know the back then rather unsure dog hybrid, Yoongi had simply found it unfair that he couldn't proceed any sort of proper education for the kinds of jobs he was dreaming of. So he'd filled in the spot of a legal owner for Jungkook- giving the Rottweiler hybrid the chance to take those chances and make something out of himself.

And nowadays, he's happy- still staying in Yoongi's care, even though he technically doesn't have to with his own job. But he likes Yoongi a lot, sees him as a brother rather than just a friend who helped him, and Yoongi feels the same way. Living with him is comfortable, it's home- it's how he wants things to stay, maybe even forever.

But.. things have been changing, recently.

A couple of weeks ago, the sign stating that the house next to the human-hybrid home of the two was for sale got taken down, signaling that it was finally in the hands of someone new. This caught both their interests, as they watched over the next few days how furniture got delivered, old fences taken down and exchanged for newer one's, and how the overgrown garden in the backyard got finally mowed and put back into a more proper shape- though at the moment, still bland. And then, they moved in. The new neighbors finally showed up, and introduced themselves. Or rather.. one of them did the introducing, while the other simply glared from a distance.

Park Jimin is the name of the friendlier one, a dance teacher very well known in his profession, or so Yoongi had found out by googling his name that same day. The man with the soft facial features owns a hybrid- and from what Jungkook has seen, you're a feline hybrid, a cat with the softest tail he's ever seen. You're always wearing the prettiest, most princess-like clothing, bows and frills and delicate lace decorating all the sleeves and hems of your dresses and skirts. You're pretty, adorable really-

but you're not very friendly, at all, to put it mildly.

When Yoongi had visited Jimin together with Jungkook for a simple dinner (Jungkook has noticed right away that there's something going on between his owner and Jimin), and you had locked yourself into the bedroom the entire night, refusing to come out despite Jimin's constant tries to coax you out. It had made the young man a little uncomfortable, having constantly apologized for your behavior, despite Yoongi's words of comfort and that it didn't bother him.

Jungkook had felt a bit odd, that night. Maybe you were just a little scared? He knows from his job after all that some cat hybrids have a natural fear for dog hybrids that they can't control. Maybe you were one of those?

It took weeks for you to finally sit at the same dinnertable as Yoongi and Jungkook- tonight finally attending, though you glare at Jungkook across the table whenever Jimin isn't paying attention to you. And something both Jungkook and Yoongi notice is just the way the human cares for you.

You're absolutely spoiled rotten.

From getting endless treats and snacks before dinner was even on the table, to the glimpse Jungkook got into your room while passing by towards the bathroom. It's full of plush animals, white and pink furniture, a canopy bed with frills and lace and endless pillows and blankets. It's clear to both Jungkook and Yoongi that your behavior might not just be your own fault- but could also be the result of Jimin's clearly spoiling behavior.

You don't just look like a princess- you're clearly used to being treated like royalty as well.

And Yoongi just watches for tonight, not saying anything because he's simply not in any position to do so. After all, Jimin and him are really just getting to know each other at the moment- and while yes, there are some emotions growing between the two, it's not yet to the point where he'd say that he wants to jump into a relationship yet. And neither does Jimin.

And maybe that's gonna have to stay this way for a while longer- because if you and Jungkook won't get along, there's simply no way that Yoongi could ever be truly happy with Jimin.

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Jungkook is currently busy picking the strawberries from the bushes in his garden when he feels eyes on him, like lasers on the back of his head. One look over his shoulder confirms his suspicion- you're currently peeking over the fence of your own backyard, thinking he cannot see you. Your gardens are so close together that only a small fence really splits them apart, so he has to swallow down a laugh since you're not really being very slick with your blatant staring.

He stands up now, tail wagging in a relaxed, friendly manner, and at that you flop down from your tip-toe position, ears slowly moving backwards in a more defensive manner. "Do you want to try one?" He asks you, and you seem to take a breath to say something, before your eyes spot the ripe, red berry in the rottweiler hybrid's hand. It does look good- probably sweet, and fruity, and delicious- but your eyes keep snapping back to his face.

Maybe you really are scared of him? He feels his heart fall a bit. He really doesn't want to scare you.

"I'm not gonna do anything, promise." He tells you, slowly walking closer with the small basket in his hand. You're taking a step back, but you're also only doing that once- staying at the fence, just making a bit more space, it seems like. "Here- you can have those, and share them with Jimin?" He proposes, and your lips move into a slight pout as you clearly start to contemplate.

You're so cute- even more so up close. Jungkook hopes that you're someone who needs a bit more time to warm up- that you just have to get used to him, maybe.

"Jiminie!" You call over your shoulder, and moments later, the man in question looks out of the back door, greeting Jungkook with a wave and a smile. "Can I have the strawberries?" You ask, and Jimin nods, walking closer now.

"Sure. Are you sure it's okay for us to have them?" He says, a hand on your head making you instinctively purr- and simultaneously Jungkook blush a little, as he realizes his slight feelings of jealousy at seeing you so at ease with the older human.

"We have more to pick, don't worry! But you can have them! They're really sweet." Jungkook says, noticing from the corner of his eye how Yoongi seems to observe the interaction from behind the window.

"Alright then, Thank you." Jimin smiles brightly, before he looks at you expectantly- but you just take the basket without any words, observing the large berries in the basket. Jimin sighs- before he speaks again. "Oh- Yoongi, hi!" He beams, and at that you look up and at the man being greeted, who looks at you with a gaze that shows an entirely different form of expectation.

It looks more demanding than expecting, and you feel yourself shrink in on yourself a bit, ears tilting backwards.

"Jungkook cares for the plants pretty well. He puts a lot of effort into them." Yoongi says, not taking his eyes off of you- as if he's pressuring you with the info of his dog hybrid's hard work. You know exactly what he wants- but he's not your owner. He's got no control over you. So you simply stay stubborn, glaring at him- making Jungkook watch a bit uncomfortably.

"Ah- it's really fine. I get lazy with them sometimes, it's more like a hobby than anything serious." He tries to lift the mood a little, and Jimin nods, before he looks at you now as well-

"…thanks." You huff under your breath, before you quickly turn around with a red face. "Jiminie can you help me wash them?" You instantly ask, jumping a little as you make your request, and Jimin sighs a little, nodding.

"I'll be right with you." He promises, watching you run inside the home, successfully escaping the situation. "I'm sorry about that.." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She can't wash them herself?" Yoongi asks, facial expression a lot softer now.

"I mean she can- I just tend to do those things for her." Jimin says, while Jungkook walks off to pick the rest of the berries, Jimin looking after him for a moment. "She- ah, she comes from a pretty bad background, I'm just trying to give her what she deserves, you know?" Jimin quietly explains.

"I had a hunch." Yoongi nods, crossing his arms. "But don't you think you're spoiling her quite a bit?" He asks, and the younger man nods.

"I'm aware. But it's hard not to." He laughs. "I've gotten used to it. I don't really know how she'd react to change." He offers, and Yoongi shrugs.

"Well, things are about to change if you want us to get anywhere at any point." Yoongi says. "You know this won't work if she keeps her behavior up." He says, though his voice is gentle.

"I know. But it's hard." Jimin whines almost, looking over his shoulder for a second.

"Well, let me ask you this." Yoongi says. "Do you want this?" He gestures between himself and Jimin, and Jimin nods almost instantly. "Then let me help you."

"How?" He asks, unsure.

"Listen, Jungkook might seem like an angel, but he'd act the same if not worse than her if I was to treat him the same as you do her." The older man laughs. "I can help you with her. I won't take over as an owner, absolutely not- that's your role after all, and it's gonna stay that way." He explains to Jimin.

"Yoongi.." Jimin sighs, crossing his arms now as well, while he thinks for a moment. "Okay." He nods after a while. "I want this to work out- and I know, really, that I need to change how I'm doing things right now." He agrees.

"Alright." The older man smiles. "Then let's make it work. Hopefully she'll get over her hatred towards Jungkookie too." He jokes, though Jimin sighs a bit sadly.

"She really doesn't hate him, you know?" He offers. "She's just- you know, back at her first home, and in the shelter, she was bullied quite a lot. And the.. things that happened to her made her awfully defensive towards everything and everyone around her- and she just tends to lash out whenever she feels scared, or you know, upset. She used to yell a lot of mean things at me too, when she was younger and I had just brought her home with me." He explains, and Yoongi nods, now a lot more sympathetic.

"I see. It makes sense then that you've become so soft with her." He offers in understanding. "But Jimin, she's not the same girl you brought home all those years ago."

"I know." Jimin nods. "But it's hard to forget that." He admits, when suddenly, you squeak out, running out the door. "What happened princess?" He worries, as you look at him with wide open eyes, pupils tiny slits.

"There was a bug in the berries!" you yell, and at that, everyone laughs-

Jimin letting go of a big sigh, before he says goodbye to Yoongi to help you fight the evil insect.

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As part of Yoongis plan to make you grow more comfortable with both him and Jungkook, you've all decided to go on a vacation together. A camping trip- something everyone found a great idea, Jungkook all excited since he loves camping- though you had been way more reluctant, considering your fear of bugs and fire, and your distaste for long car rides and anything dirty.

But this time, Jimin had apparently put his foot down- because he'd informed Yoongi not even a day later that it was a great idea, and that him and you would definitely come along. What Jungkook however didn't knew until right now, is that he's gonna share a room with you-

alone.

"But she hates me!" Jungkook complaints, as he stands in the cabin Yoongi is currently unloading the groceries in. "There's no way she'll sleep in the same room as me." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs.

"Well, she has to learn. I already talked to Jimin about it-" He says, putting everything into a box that doesn't have to be stored in the fridge. "-and he agrees that he's spoiled her quite a bit until now. She needs to learn to be a bit more independent." He explains calmly, though he's internally very well aware of your distaste for his dog hybrid. He knows exactly why- but he also respects Jimin's decision to not tell Jungkook anything about your past trauma, claiming that that's something you need to tell, no one else.

And Yoongi agrees with that- but he also feels for Jungkook, who's been really trying to make you warm up to him. He already struggles to find friends due to his intimidating hybrid side and sometimes rather chaotic personality. Seeing you so defensive against him does clearly hurt, no matter ho much Jungkook tries to play it off.

But for once, Yoongi also wants to be a little selfish. He wants to spend time with Jimin, alone time away from you both, just to properly figure out where he truly wants this to go from here on out. It's why he's organized this trip in the first place. To find out if this could truly work out.

And he fears, deep down, that it won't. Because if you and Jungkook don't get along, there's no way Yoongi can ever be happy with Jimin.

A few hours away from the Cabin Yoongi and Jungkook are already setting up, you're pouting next to Jimin in the car, slumped down and with your arms crossed. "Making that face won't make me turn around, princess." Jimin says, voice light- but inside, he's torn. This is going to be tough for you, considering that you're gonna have to stay with Jungkook during the night- and the poor dog hybrid has no idea that you don't actually hate him. You don't hate at all, in fact.

Your defense mechanism when confronted with something you fear however, is to lash out. And that is most of the time taken out of context, making you appear rude and arrogant, when in reality you're just trying not to seem weak or vulnerable.

Because in the past, that would immediately make you the perfect target. Pushed aside and scolded for everything that wasn't ever your fault in your first home, used as a punching bag for other hybrids in the shelter later on, you had to somehow make up a tough façade so you wouldn't end up in those positions ever again. You learned to keep yourself safe by being the one who bites first- and it took Jimin years to truly gain your full trust.

He fears that that's all you can do though. That he's going to forever stay the only person of comfort for you.

And that's an issue. While he himself had been a bit defensive about his treatment of you with Yoongi, he knows that the older man is right. Jimin has been wrapping you in layers of bubble wrap, has spoiled you and nursed your bad habits into what they are today simply because he always saw the scared, shaking hybrid back at the shelter.

But that's not you anymore. You technically have no reason to be scared of anything anymore- but Jimin understands now, after talking numerous times about it with Yoongi, that he's partially at fault for your lack of social skills.

Jungkook had come from a good household- had been raised well, so Yoongi had never really experienced anything like Jimin did with you, but nonetheless, his advice still counts, and is still valid.

You need to learn at some point. You have to realize that there's nothing to fear anymore- and that Jungkook isn't an enemy ready to eat you alive in your sleep.

"Come on, stop pouting now, hm?" He tries, running a hand over your head once at a red light. You just look out the window. "Is Jungkookie that scary?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"He's dumb." You deny, putting your legs up and onto the seat.

"Hey.!" He scolds gently. "Jungkook isn't dumb. He's trying hard, okay? You could be at least civil with him, sugar." He tells you, and you sigh at that, leaning against the door.

"I don't want to." You say defensively, tail angrily flopping around. "You just say that because you wanna be with Yoongi." You huff.

"Partially, I admit that." Jimin nods. "But I also agree with him that you need to be nicer. Jungkookie is really trying to be friends with you, you know?" He sighs.

"I don't care.." You mumble to yourself, angrily looking out the window. You know that Jungkook isn't a threat- but he's still scary to you. He's tall, and a lot of muscle, and he's loud, and energetic, and just.. scary. Intimidating. Potentially dangerous. And that potential alone is enough to make you feel threatened.

Jungkook and Yoongi are currently ruining your perfect life you had with Jimin. So you've got enough reason to be absolutely pissed.

And so you refuse to exit the car in front of the cabin- rather taking a nap inside, until Jimin breaks through Yoongi's advice to just 'let you have your tantrum', unable to right away just let you be. It's unsurprising to the older human- so he doesn't really take it personally, letting him go out and talk to you so you finally come inside.

"Maybe she should sleep with Jimin tonight." Jungkook says, having rather reluctantly brought your luggage into your shared room with him.

"No, she's staying with you tonight, and that's final." Yoongi shakes his head, coincidentally saying exactly that when Jimin walks inside the cabin with you holding his hand. It earns him an angry glare from you, before you let go of Jimin to instead dash past Yoongi and Jungkook and into the room, door slamming shut. Jimin sighs.

"I'm really sorry about her." He shakes his head, sitting down and running a hand over his face. "Ah, this is so uncomfortable!" He laughs a bit, trying to lift the mood, as Yoongi sits down next to him, running a hand over his back.

"It's fine." He simply says, before he nods towards Jungkook, who reluctantly walks away after saying goodnight, opening the door to the dark room.

He gets ready for bed, but he notices that when he returns to the room after brushing his teeth and washing his face, you're still under the blanket in your day clothes, not having moved at all. Assuming that you're in one of your tantrums again, he quietly turns off the lights, and gets into his own bed across from yours, closing his eyes-

when he hears it.

Quiet sniffles, scent of distress coming from you filling the room. It makes him sit up again, eyes having adapted to the dark by now, a little light bleeding in from under the door as well. "You okay.?" He carefully and quietly asks, but you don't answer, instead simply curling up a little tighter. "You.. your bag is next to your bed-"

"Leave me alone!" You hiss, sitting up now and glaring at him with glossy eyes and a runny nose, tail angrily slapping around behind you. "This is your fault! Yours and Yoongis!" You snarl at him, and he's taken aback.

"What did I do?" He asks, unsure, and you scoff.

"You're taking Jimin away from me!" You say, new wave of fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. "He's gonna see how fucking perfect and nice you are instead of me, and then he's gonna bring me back to the shelter so he can be all happily-ever-after with you and Yoongi! Hope you'll be happy then.!" You growl, before you turn around and throw yourself down again, pulling the blanket over you before you quietly continue to cry.

Only now does Jungkook realize that Yoongi was right- you don't hate him. And you're not scared of him either-

you're scared of being left alone.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #yoongi imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #yoongi fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin x reader

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galene-gothic · 10 months

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𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

Some sort of an event happened in the past, that's what people are discussing. Whatever happened seems to have caused you a lot of confusion. I honestly feel like people were purposely trying to cause chaos in your life in order to have some drama in their lives. These people seem to either have been/are close to you or just a close witness to the situation. They're saying good things about you, they're talking about how you released your sorrow, resentment or just negative emotions in general. They're saying that you've left your past behind. I just heard 'this boy', I have no clue but the drama might have included some boy. They're saying that your motivation and enthusiasm are returning now. They're saying that you've accepted the situation. They're saying that you're choosing to focus on the positives of life. They're saying that back then you were trying your best to have a positive attitude towards life and make what you could out of it. They might have witnessed you crying or expressing your sorrow, anger or whatever on the verge of tears. They're talking about how you've grown out of it. They're saying that you've grown to respect yourself now and have a lot of courage. The people who put you in such a situation might've been victimizing themselves and might've successfully guilt tripped you to a certain extent but you seem to have recovered from the guilt. They're talking about your endurance and your morals. They are saying that your views have changed or seem to have changed. There's another group of people, likely the ones who made you go through such a traumatizing time. They're saying that you lack self-awareness. They're saying that you only care about yourself. They're saying that you've not accepted what you've done and believe that you've been falsely blamed. I'm getting that it's because while some of it was your fault.

The way they dealt with the situation and treated you was much worse plus they seemed to just need an excuse to criticize you when they weren't even that affected by the situation. People who had nothing to do with the situation might've gotten involved too. Like, supposing you dated your friend's crush, the whole friend group might've turned against you when it didn't even affect them at all. Some of you might've trouble regarding education, some of you might've been forced to drop out or dropped out on will too, for the rest, you're just having difficulties with your studies. People are talking about it. The people who legit pray for your downfall are saying that you have unrealistic dreams and plans. They're saying that you don't have realistic goals and lack the motivation and discipline to work on your career. Someone saying that you're not someone who wants to work solely for money, you're not the type to be like 'as long as I get money, I don't mind giving up on my dreams' or atleast that's what they think and are talking about. Whatever everyone is saying seems to be assumptions mostly. People from the past who know nothing about who you've grown to be. I'm getting some sort of a pause for you. Gap year from work, education or social media. People who literally have nothing to do with you are gossiping about how you lack direction in life. For those of you who aren't dropouts or are not taking gap years, you might give really vague answers when asked about what you wish to do in the future. You might say things like "I haven't thought much about it yet" or "we'll see" or you might be unsure about what field to study next and you might accept it and sometimes vocalise it "I am not sure what to take yet". People wait for you to post so that they can have something to discuss or make fun of. People from the past are slowly beginning to see that your perspective is changing and you're gaining enlightenment.

The tea here isn't about what they're saying, it's more about how fearful they are of your growth and how many people have their eyes on you. People who literally do not know you but know the people or one of the people who tried their best to traumatize you tend to follow you, your friends, your love interests, etc. just because they're obsessed with you. Like, these people went off to college in the same or different places while you could not afford it, their college mates and friends follow you, the guy you were seen hanging out with, etc. I'm getting a very karmic vibe here. I'm not sure what or when but them looking at you and talking shit about you is weighing them down and lifting you up, little by little. Things are rebuilding for you. You're independent and friendly and the new people in your life see that. You know, the first few days at a new school, college or work. If you're pretty, you realise that you're pretty because of the way people act towards you and the things they say. You might suddenly have those moments "maybe, I am even more attractive than I originally assumed". People are obsessed with you and watching you. They're trying to strategize your every move and keeping tabs on you. Someone here legit dreams about getting a revenge on you and some imagine being better than you, being chosen by someone over you. Even if people do not say that they're mad at you due to external validation from people, they make it obvious and they literally form bonds based upon their jealousy masked as hatred towards you. They're mad because of the support you receive from others. Some of these people regret it because they never imagined you actually leaving them and letting go of them completely. While, one of them was definitely praying on your downfall and still is, the rest, they were just trying to poke some fun to excite themselves. The tea is that people have so many different assumptions about you at this time because they have no clue as to what you're doing, who you're with, etc.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

Some of you here are from Pile 1, someone here is praising you, they're saying that you're mature and grounded. I think that this is someone close to you because you actually do seem to be this way. They're saying that you're generous and social. They're saying that you're practical and care about material objects. They're saying that you have a good nature and intentions. They're saying that you're nurturing and emotionally intelligent. One hint as to who is praising you, it is someone you've talked to when you didn't do your routine or felt unproductive. You likely told them that you didn't get your work done that particular day and they likely told you that it's okay to have those days as long as you do not make it a habit. Some of you might be balancing between two or more different streams of income and they're saying that you are trying to harvest better time management skills. This person understands you very well, they're saying that you have a personality that is very balanced and traits that often contradict each other. You're the coldest warm person, warmest cold person, nicest mean person, meanest nice person, logical and emotional, etc. all at the same time. They're saying that you've gone through many ups and downs in life but always try to balance things out. They're saying that you try your best to keep your grace under pressure until you finally crack and burst.

They're also saying that you struggle with balancing though. This is definitely someone who knows you well. They saw you finally being able to mentally leave a situation. They're saying that you're releasing past hurts and pain. They're talking about your sense of independence and courage. They're so proud of you and your growth and they feel happy to be able to witness your growth. They're saying that you regained balance and control over yourself and your life again. This person has a lot of love for you. The connection between the both of you is likely platonic. This person really admires you for walking away or distancing yourself from past situations. You still seem to be healing though. They have a lot of faith in you. They're talking about your friendliness and ability to grow. They're saying that you're efficient and most likely will be successful in the future. This person knows that you felt used by people even if they do not speak about it. While, this person talks highly about you, there's someone else who's talking shit about you. They're saying that your relationships are very short lived and that you're superficial. They're saying that you're a bitchy person who has no friends (I'm getting that it's not like you cannot have friends, it's just that you don't have a lot of them or people extremely close to you right now.)

If you do, they're not aware of that, I'm getting that this person is likely making other people hate you along with them. If you guys had a break up, people are talking about that. There's a lot of gossip going around currently. This pile definitely seems to have had a falling out with friends or something. I just heard "if she's sad, she tries to drag your mood down too". You guys might have started your healing journey around children or are healing your inner child. Some of you have different projects that are helping you heal better. There's also a chance that some romance changed your perspective, people are not talking about it but it's kind of a confirmation for some of you. People are saying that you lack a vision for the future. They're saying that you do not have enough drive to go after your dreams and stay consistent. People are also talking about your failed long distance relationship. For some of you, it might've been just a situationship but they're not fully aware of that. A group of people are talking about how you've lost direction. They're saying that you'll get nowhere in the future, I just heard it's 'neighbourhood karens'. Someone is saying that you're going through an unrequited love. People are saying that you have blocked emotions and legit tell people not to talk to you so that you feel alone. They're saying that you hurt their feelings, made them sad and are exaggerating everything you've done to them even though they've done worse to you.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

People are saying that you're a social climber. If you go to school or college, juniors are talking about how mean you are. People might even be slutshaming you behind your back. The funny part is that so many of you here are probably virgins. They're saying that you lack/lacked financial stability and stayed friends with people just for their money. People are saying that you're out of control. They're saying that you're obsessed with status and use people. People are also saying that you act like you don't need anyone. The person or people who are talking trash about you are people who are still crying over spilt milk, likely people from the past. Someone is talking about how you have large sums of money and are likely stealing money from others. If you went to a sleepover recently, the person might've lost some money and talked shit about you behind your back. These people tried their best to guilt trip you in the past and it did work for a while but it stopped working after a while. They're still blaming you for everything. I'm getting that people tend to feel lower than you and then act like you're the problem. You might have betrayed them or they might have betrayed or both. This is someone you trusted who let you down. You might have done something that hurt one person in the group and the whole group turned against you is the scenario I'm getting. You might have almost completely hid yourself away from the world. These people are not open to change, they take everything as a personal attack and are still the people that they were a few years ago. You, on the other hand are the type to grow every single day. I'm getting that for some of you, you used to talk shit about others with this person or group of people but as you started growing older, you started feeling like it didn't align with your personal values and you might have called them out.

Maybe, you just refused to talk shit about others but they were like "oh, you think you're better than us/me?" Let's just say that they failed to understand you but they fear you strongly. They know that you have a lot of hidden secrets, there are so many things that they're trying to figure out about your life. You've withdrawn and are silent but you are often not like this and they feel like you're going to come up with something in full force. You naturally attract attention even if unwanted and right now you do not want attention, you want peace but when you come out of this period of solitude, they don't know what's going to greet them. They were in your life for pretty long until you had a falling out, they were always confused when you entered those periods of solitude and jumped into conclusions but everytime they did that, you did something surprising so they're naturally confused when it comes to you and your life currently. Everytime they ignored your potential, you proved them wrong. They spread misinformation on you but well you have something you have been working on that they can pick up on intuitively and they're so curious and feel like when you do step out of the self isolation or whatever, you're going to be so big, they will not know what to do. However, some of them are trying to reassure themselves and the rest that you lack potential for any of that. They think that you might've hidden agendas against them. These people cannot let go of you, mostly because if one of them doesn't bring you up, the other does. You're rising above the problems and their bitchiness. You've realised how worthy you really are and you think that you've gotten over the worst already and they can pick up on it too. You do not give them the time of the day. Your life improved in some way after they left your life and they know that.

It could be anything, something as small as your first job or something as big as a successful business, however, either way you're ahead of them in some way, regardless of whether they accept it or not. You've let go and learnt from the past to a certain extent and you're trying to fully release, they feel like their fears will come true. Their biggest fear is you realising your worth and achieving success. The amount of resilience you have is something that they cannot deny. Some of you are taking a break from school, college or work, maybe it's been one or two years now, you're still growing something for yourself though. They know that you have an ability that they lack, self awareness and acceptance, you're very much the 'yes, what I did was wrong but I forgive myself' kind of person while they're the 'yes, everything is my fault' while denying everything and refusing to look into themselves and their actions. I just heard that you're on your way to become a ten. You know and manage to take time out when you burn out, they aren't like that. They're too scared of being behind in life even though something like that doesn't really exist. They're burnt out and not content. Their life is tiresome because of some routine, I just heard 'rat race'. You're taking a lot onto yourself and someone else is talking about how hard you are on yourself and appreciating your efforts. Some are talking about how beautiful, nurturing and respectful you are. You're growing, please continue doing so.

#intuitive readings #pick a card #pick a deck #pac #pac reading #divination #pick a pile

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sepherinaspoppies · 4 months

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after hours - modern! aemond targaryen x reader

summary: she receives a late night call from her needy boyfriend, aemond.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f and m masturbation, phone sex, use of sex toys for reader, and I think that's it?

wc: 2,387

masterlist

notes: this was supposed to be a very small drabble lmao. anyways this is kind of unedited. oops

She sits on her bed, a plate of yesterday’s reheated pepperoni pizza laid across her lap while the television played rerun episodes of Gilmore Girls when her phone rang unexpectedly.

At such late hours she decided to let her phone ring, for if she answered whoever it was calling on the other end would know she was awake and she did not want that. It was probably one of those scam calls that were going around tricking people to give out their credit card information for their own benefit.

Though, she wondered if they knew that she had only ten dollars currently sitting in her bank account after she had spent the last of her savings on pizza.

She sighed happily once her ringtone slowly faltered down but it wasn’t long before it started ringing again and again. And on the fourth ring she sadly set down her pizza to the side before snatching off her phone from the power socket.

Her eyes widen in horror as she views the bold letters of the caller ID. She immediately accepts the call, rushing to turn off the television to give her full attention to her caller.

“Angel.” Aemond greeted in a low hum, sounds of metal clanking could be heard from the background.

She appreciates that he doesn’t sound angry for her lack of response. In the past few months she had the pleasure of knowing Aemond, she had come to learn very quickly that he was not a very patient man. If Aemond wanted something, whether it’d be something materialistic or sexual, he wanted it now in any way possible.

“Hey Aem, sorry I thought you’d be asleep.” She apologizes, setting a few pieces of loose hair behind her ear.

In the other line, she hears Aemond acknowledge her by singing another low hum, something Aemond regularly did that frustrated her. At first she thought Aegon was just joking around when he first set them up on a blind date, that Aemond was a man of a few words and only humming out his responses. But as she got to know him more throughout their dating phase, she realized that Aegon was in fact not joking. It took her months to break him out of his shell.

“So, how are things down south?” She asks, quickly changing the subject to that of his work status.

Aemond worked in the field he always wanted to be in; as a high school history and philosophy teacher. Aemond loved his job even if they were students who made it tough for him to educate those who did take their studies seriously. He loved the challenge. He loved being up on his feet teaching the histories of how Westeros came to be or educating the famous ideologies of the greatest philosophers that made Aemond fall in love with the subject.

You could say Aemond was a workaholic. There was no denying that. What some teachers considered the best part of teaching was the summer vacations, Aemond absolutely despised it. However that problem would soon resolve after she had called up her uncle Oberyn, who taught gender and sexuality studies at Sunspear University, if there were any positions available for Aemond’s area of degree during the summer. To her delight, her uncle informed her that the university was looking for someone who was fluent in High Valyrian to teach a beginner course.

Aemond immediately emailed his resume in and within a few days after his students left for summer break Aemond got on a plane to Dorne and began to work in his new position in a new city.

Which was about a month ago.

“Hard,” Aemond breathes as he licks his lips.

“Aw, my love—” She tried to comfort him before she was cut off. “Hot,” Aemond corrects himself, standing up from his own bed to retrieve his laptop.

“Well Dorne is known to be quite hot. Especially during the summer.” She informs in a matter of fact tone as she toys with the thin strap of her nightgown. “Besides, I thought dragons prefer the heat.”

A low chuckle came from the other end. She can practically imagine the corners of his lips curving up to a smirk. “We do prefer heat but we are not immune to it as you think. I even purchased three fans to keep myself cool. Though, they do not work for shit which leaves me, as of right now bare.”

She paused, straightening up from the bed. “When you say bare—”

“I mean bare as when I came into this world”

A long silence came afterward, and she could hear the beat of her own heart thumping against the screen of her phone. She looked at her Charlie Brown calendar hung above her nightstand. Once she confirmed that today was in fact the weekend, it became evident why Aemond was calling at such a late hour.

Heat began to seep into her lower belly down between her thighs at what she could surmise would happen next.

It had been some time since they were last intimate. Forty-two days to be exact; the day before his departure to Dorne.

Aemond and her spent the whole morning, afternoon and night tangled within each other going round after round in different positions and different rooms of their shared cottage saying their goodbyes until she passed out from the many orgasms Aemond gave her. The following morning Aemond threw himself into fits of giggles when she could no longer stand up from their bed to drive him to the airport, feeling sore and bruised from the intensity of the night before.

“Angel? Have I lost you?” Aemond asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She replied with a shaky no before Aemond began to speak again. “Hmm then accept my facetime call.” Her eyes locked with her laptop which she did not realize it had been ringing and nervously pressed the green button.

Through the low lighted room she could see the silhouette of Aemond. His laptop perched on top of his stomach, his bare and freckled chest full on display. She so desperately wished she was there to roam her hands all over him. And she stifled a moan when she noticed Aemond’s silver hair was pulled back into a braid just as how she liked it.

“There you are my beautiful angel,” Aemond purrs, giving his hardened cock a good squeeze from the base. His eye roams over her clothed figure, taking in her sheer white nightgown that leaves nothing to his imagination.

Heats spread to her cheeks, his compliments never tiring her.

“You don’t know how much I miss you, angel. Your hands—” On cue her hand slowly waves itself down between her thighs, pushing her lacy panties to the side as her fingers come into contact with her arousal on the way to her clit.

“Stroking my cock while your lovely mouth sucks me off.” Aemond imagines it all like it was yesterday and his cock pulsed so hard it ached. It wasn’t any better when he saw her chest rise and fall with wanton little pants escaping her lips.

She was touching herself. Something Aemond warned her not to do in his absence. He wanted to reprimand her for such an act but instead Aemond let her continue as he wanted to watch her unfold and peak especially for what he had in mind.

“Oh, Aemond, I miss you too.” She whines, throwing her head back into the pillows, struggling to keep her laptop perched ontop her knees. Waves of pleasure move throughout her body, his words going straight to her core.

She hears Aemond groan.

“Your tongue on my cunt and- and—” Her words stammer and she feels the tips of her ears flush with embarrassment for her next confession. “Go on, angel.” Aemond encourages as he gazes at her reddened state. He finds it endearing and if he was there right now, he would pull away her hand until she confessed.

“Your nose.”

“And what about my nose?” He hums using his thumb to circle the tip of cock.

“I-I love your nose on my clit.”

Aemond’s one good eye widened and felt the intense pressure in his lower stomach increase. It was no wonder why whenever he went down on her she screamed the loudest when his nose brushed against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Aemond continued watching her touch and lose herself in pleasure. Intensely watching as her fingers vigorously circled her clit with sweat above her brow. He moaned sweet nothings through his laptop and just as he sensed she was about to peak, Aemond stopped her.

She did as she was told and she couldn’t help to let out a few tears of frustration.

“Get your buzzy out, angel.” Aemond instructed. Instantly her mood shifts into an excited and eager one.

“Which one?”

“Oh you know which one.”

She definitely knows which one. Her hand reaches for the drawer of her nightstand where inside lay rows of different forms of vibrators as well as different sizes and shapes of dildos Aemond purchased within their relationship. Their favorite being a dual pink vibrator that was made to stimulate her g-spot along with her clit. It was also remote and app controlled with multiple levels of speed and vibrations that made her come in less than five minutes. Which was good since it took her a while to come.

“Good. Now be a good girl and undress in front of me, angel” She eagerly nods at his words and sets her laptop in front of her. “Look at me while you bare yourself to me.” Her eyes snap up meeting his darkened violet eye that was full of passion and concentration as her fingers lift the hem of her nightgown.

She sees him bite his lower lip once her breasts are revealed. Aemond nods for her to proceed to take off the next piece of clothing and she does so, tossing it somewhere across the room not caring where it lands.

Having laid together multiple times, she swallows the need to cover herself and spreads her legs apart just enough for Aemond to gaze through the camera at how wet she was for him. Aemond inhales the desire to stroke his cock into completion. He wanted to see her fall apart first.

“Now place the buzzy in your cunt, slowly.”

She rubs the silicone against her slick gathering some of her juices before sliding the thicker part of the vibrator inside. She sighs in relief at the sensation, it wasn’t as big and delicious of a stretch like Aemond’s cock but it was just right to feel some satisfaction.

She then bends the longest part of the silicone gently against her pulsating clit with needy whines and pants waiting for further instructions.

Seven fucking Hells. Aemond curses to himself wishing nothing more than to book a flight back to King’s Landing and have her sit on his face licking away her juices. Aemond remembers that in a month that will happen soon.

Aemond’s fingers swipe through the different kinds of vibrational settings through the blue hearted app and settle for one with the lowest speed to get her started.

Once Aemond hears a series of surprised cries and gasps, he gives up on trying not to touch himself. He starts stroking his cock at a languid pace as he watches his lovely little angel struggle to keep her legs still and open through the camera.

“You’re doing so well baby,” She hears Aemond praise. “Tell me does that feel good? Are you close? Answer me, sweet angel.”

She fervently nods her head.

“Use your words, angel.”

“Y-yes.” She says, barely being able to control words out through the pleasure. “Yes, what?” Aemond taunts before he lets out a hiss when the fat head of cock starts to ache more. He knew he wasn’t going to last long as he hadn’t touched himself so intimately in forty-two days, wanting to also keep good on his promise.

“Yes, Aemond, it feels so good. I need more please.” While vibrations felt so indescribably good it wasn’t sufficient to send her over the edge. She knew Aemond set the vibrator in level one. And in their lovemaking, Aemond usually set the speed at level five which was neither too fast nor too slow. Just right to see stars followed by another round.

When Aemond set his laptop to the side, giving her a full view of his proud length standing straight against his stomach, she nearly lost it, clenching the silicone tightly inside her walls. Gods she really did miss him. All of him.

She groans loudly when Aemond sets the speed she likes, making her eyes roll at the back of her head, pinching both of her nipples for some extra stimulation but what Aemond says makes her halt and glance at his disheveled state.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m coming!” He moans as she watches his hand stroke his cock vigorously while long ropes of his seed spurt all across his chest and hand. Series of whines and growls leave his lips all while his hips buck upwards at the intense pleasure that makes Aemond cry. Literally cry.

She watches all in awe.

Saying he looked beautiful was an understatement. No, Aemond looked so godly and ethereal and she understood now the reference that Targaryens were closer to gods than men.

Once Aemond steadied himself, the words left her lips without thinking.

“That was quick.”

And before she had time to explain, the air in her lungs left quickly like her words as she felt the most intense and deep sensation between her legs. She let out incoherent noises to which she could not describe. Were they moans? Groans? Cries? She did not know.

All she did know was the tightness in her lower belly finally snapped and her orgasm washes all over her like a tide.

After a few minutes, she heard Aemond laugh through the screen. “You were saying?” He teases as he waves his phone around the camera.

She feels too tired to reply. Her body automatically feels relaxed and stress-free.

“Oh, angel, don’t get too comfortable. I’m not done with you yet. I’m still very hard.”

Oh shit….

im gonna go hide under my bed now lol

general taglist: @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @smayhem @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @imsoshygirl @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost

empty is who I could not tag im sorry!

if you like to be on my general taglist click here

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #modern! Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond x you #aemond fanfiction

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thebibliosphere · 7 months

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do you have any advice for someone who might want to get into the writing and publishing business but has technically no connections or experience? i grew up dead set on being a writer but had a crisis over my skills around college age, which led me to dropping my hopes of that career path and pursuing a different major. i’m still in an artistic field (theatre) but now i’m WAY back into writing again and experiencing major career regret. an early career existential crisis of sorts. do you think there are any steps i could take to dip my toes into the professional writing world as a theatre kid/playwright? i eventually think i’d like to publish a few books and short story collections, and i’ve been told by many people online and irl that my writing is very good. i’m really passionate about editing and helping people improve their writing too. i’d like to see if it’s something for me, but have no idea where to even begin. i’ve also only been graduated for a few years so I dont have a lot of career experience as it is. any insights you can offer as someone who’s done it would be immensely appreciated 💖

You don’t need a college education in creative writing to be a writer. Sure, it can help, but it’s not a necessity.

My best advise would be to find writer groups and become active there. If you engage in fandom content online, start building your community and friendships there too. Be around other people who write, and make sure you have the time to write yourself.

Also, a lot of authors have other jobs. Writing as a main job is not sustainable for most people. (It’s only sustainable for me because my readers are feral and my partner has a job that pays the mortgage.) So don’t think of it as choosing one over the other. Writing will always be there for you so long as you engage with it. As for what to do with your work once you’re done, that’s up to you, but self-pub is also always an option if trad-pub isn’t something you want to deal with.

If you’re wanting to get into editing, there are editing courses you can take that don’t require going back to university. But again, join writers groups, join online spaces. Be involved. Building a community of like-minded creatives is important.

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robobarbie · 29 days

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what is your day job, and how did you get it? I'm sorry if this is too personal. I graduated from university for 6 months now and haven't been able to find a well paying job. I remember you said that your job pays you well and that you had time to pursue your own projects and was wondering if you could share your experience in your education and work experience or any advice to someone who's feeling very lost and confused right now.

i was in a similar boat! i only figured out what field to go into because my ex's uncle mentioned that i should check out "big data", otherwise i was just as wandery. i had a math degree, but no real idea what to do with it.

i got my first job from a career fair at my university, but not from the career fair my department held (you should always go to all career fairs, not just ones held by ur department). obvs you are not in school anymore, so you might want to get more into networking. you can reach out to old classmates/professors to see if they can give you a rec somewhere, or reach out to people at companies directly on sites like linkedin after you apply so they remember you when they see your application. if you aren't making it to the interview stage, you might need to review and redo ur resume. but, i mean, this is all typical advice you can find online.

i am in stats/data analysis for my career, and they take people in entry level jobs if you have some sort of degree about stats/finance/econ/data science/etc for the jobs that pay well. if you want to try data, you can also take a low paying job and build up a data analysis portfolio by tackling problems on kaggle.

It's tough out there right now -- I know a lot of people in your situation. Stay strong gamer.

#anon ask

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bookshelf-in-progress · 2 months

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A Wise Pair of Fools: A Retelling of “The Farmer’s Clever Daughter”

For the Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge at @inklings-challenge.

Faith

I wish you could have known my husband when he was a young man. How you would have laughed at him! He was so wonderfully pompous—oh, you’d have no idea unless you’d seen him then. He’s weathered beautifully, but back then, his beauty was bright and new, all bronze and ebony. He tried to pretend he didn’t care for personal appearances, but you could tell he felt his beauty. How could a man not be proud when he looked like one of creation’s freshly polished masterpieces every time he stepped out among his dirty, sweaty peasantry?

But his pride in his face was nothing compared to the pride he felt over his mind. He was clever, even then, and he knew it. He’d grown up with an army of nursemaids to exclaim, “What a clever boy!” over every mildly witty observation he made. He’d been tutored by some of the greatest scholars on the continent, attended the great universities, traveled further than most people think the world extends. He could converse like a native in fifteen living languages and at least three dead ones.

And books! Never a man like him for reading! His library was nothing to what it is now, of course, but he was making a heroic start. Always a book in his hand, written by some dusty old man who never said in plain language what he could dress up in words that brought four times the work to some lucky printer. Every second breath he took came out as a quotation. It fairly baffled his poor servants—I’m certain to this day some of them assume Plato and Socrates were college friends of his.

Well, at any rate, take a man like that—beautiful and over-educated—and make him king over an entire nation—however small—before he turns twenty-five, and you’ve united all earthly blessings into one impossibly arrogant being.

Unfortunately, Alistair’s pomposity didn’t keep him properly aloof in his palace. He’d picked up an idea from one of his old books that he should be like one of the judge-kings of old, walking out among his people to pass judgment on their problems, giving the inferior masses the benefit of all his twenty-four years of wisdom. It’s all right to have a royal patron, but he was so patronizing. Just as if we were all children and he was our benevolent father. It wasn’t strange to see him walking through the markets or looking over the fields—he always managed to look like he floated a step or two above the common ground the rest of us walked on—and we heard stories upon stories of his judgments. He was decisive, opinionated. Always thought he had a better way of doing things. Was always thinking two and ten and twelve steps ahead until a poor man’s head would be spinning from all the ways the king found to see through him. Half the time, I wasn’t sure whether to fear the man or laugh at him. I usually laughed.

So then you can see how the story of the mortar—what do you mean you’ve never heard it? You could hear it ten times a night in any tavern in the country. I tell it myself at least once a week! Everyone in the palace is sick to death of it!

Oh, this is going to be a treat! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a fresh audience?

It happened like this. It was spring of the year I turned twenty-one. Father plowed up a field that had lain fallow for some years, with some new-fangled deep-cutting plow that our book-learned king had inflicted upon a peasantry that was baffled by his scientific talk. Father was plowing near a river when he uncovered a mortar made of solid gold. You know, a mortar—the thing with the pestle, for grinding things up. Don’t ask me why on earth a goldsmith would make such a thing—the world’s full of men with too much money and not enough sense, and housefuls of servants willing to take too-valuable trinkets off their hands. Someone decades ago had swiped this one and apparently found my father’s farm so good a hiding place that they forgot to come back for it.

Anyhow, my father, like the good tenant he was, understood that as he’d found a treasure on the king’s land, the right thing to do was to give it to the king. He was all aglow with his noble purpose, ready to rush to the palace at first light to do his duty by his liege lord.

I hope you can see the flaw in his plan. A man like Alistair, certain of his own cleverness, careful never to be outwitted by his peasantry? Come to a man like that with a solid gold mortar, and his first question’s going to be…?

That’s right. “Where’s the pestle?”

I tried to tell Father as much, but he—dear, sweet, innocent man—saw only his simple duty and went forth to fulfill it. He trotted into the king’s throne room—it was his public day—all smiles and eagerness.

Alistair took one look at him and saw a peasant tickled to death that he was pulling a fast one on the king—giving up half the king’s rightful treasure in the hopes of keeping the other half and getting a fat reward besides.

Alistair tore into my father—his tongue was much sharper then—taking his argument to pieces until Father half-believed he had hidden away the pestle somewhere, probably after stealing both pieces himself. In his confusion, Father looked even guiltier, and Alistair ordered his guard to drag Father off to the dungeons until they could arrange a proper hearing—and, inevitably, a hanging.

As they dragged him to his doom, my father had the good sense to say one coherent phrase, loud enough for the entire palace to hear. “If only I had listened to my daughter!”

Alistair, for all his brains, hadn’t expected him to say something like that. He had Father brought before him, and questioned him until he learned the whole story of how I’d urged Father to bury the mortar again and not say a word about it, so as to prevent this very scene from occurring.

About five minutes after that, I knocked over a butter churn when four soldiers burst into my father’s farmhouse and demanded I go with them to the castle. I made them clean up the mess, then put on my best dress and did up my hair—in those days, it was thick and golden, and fell to my ankles when unbound—and after traveling to the castle, I went, trembling, up the aisle of the throne room.

Alistair had made an effort that morning to look extra handsome and extra kingly. He still has robes like those, all purple and gold, but the way they set off his black hair and sharp cheekbones that day—I’ve never seen anything like it. He looked half-divine, the spirit of judgment in human form. At the moment, I didn’t feel like laughing at him.

Looming on his throne, he asked me, “Is it true that you advised this man to hide the king’s rightful property from him?” (Alistair hates it when I imitate his voice—but isn’t it a good impression?)

I said yes, it was true, and Alistair asked me why I’d done such a thing, and I said I had known this disaster would result, and he asked how I knew, and I said (and I think it’s quite good), that this is what happens when you have a king who’s too clever to be anything but stupid.

Naturally, Alistair didn’t like that answer a bit, but I’d gotten on a roll, and it was my turn to give him a good tongue-lashing. What kind of king did he think he was, who could look at a man as sweet and honest as my father and suspect him of a crime? Alistair was so busy trying to see hidden lies that he couldn’t see the truth in front of his face. So determined not to be made a fool of that he was making himself into one. If he persisted in suspecting everyone who tried to do him a good turn, no one would be willing to do much of anything for him. And so on and so forth.

You might be surprised at my boldness, but I had come into that room not expecting to leave it without a rope around my neck, so I intended to speak my mind while I had the chance. The strangest thing was that Alistair listened, and as he listened, he lost some of that righteous arrogance until he looked almost human. And the end of it all was that he apologized to me!

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather at that! I didn’t faint, but I came darn close. That arrogant, determined young king, admitting to a simple farmer’s daughter that he’d been wrong?

He did more than admit it—he made amends. He let Father keep the mortar, and then bought it from him at its full value. Then he gifted Father the farm where we lived, making us outright landowners. After the close of the day’s hearings, he even invited us to supper with him, and I found that King Alistair wasn’t a half-bad conversational partner. Some of those books he read sounded almost interesting.

For a year after that, Alistair kept finding excuses to come by the farm. He would check on Father’s progress and baffle him with advice. We ran into each other in the street so often that I began to expect it wasn’t mere chance. We’d talk books, and farming, and sharpen our wits on each other. We’d do wordplay, puzzles, tongue-twisters. A game, but somehow, I always thought, some strange sort of test.

Would you believe, even his proposal was a riddle? Yes, an actual riddle! One spring morning, I came across Alistair on a corner of my father's land, and he got down on one knee, confessed his love for me, and set me a riddle. He had the audacity to look into the face of the woman he loved—me!—and tell me that if I wanted to accept his proposal, I would come to him at his palace, not walking and not riding, not naked and not dressed, not on the road and not off it.

Do you know, I think he actually intended to stump me with it? For all his claim to love me, he looked forward to baffling me! He looked so sure of himself—as if all his book-learning couldn’t be beat by just a bit of common sense.

If I’d really been smart, I suppose I’d have run in the other direction, but, oh, I wanted to beat him so badly. I spent about half a minute solving the riddle and then went off to make my preparations.

The next morning, I came to the castle just like he asked. Neither walking nor riding—I tied myself to the old farm mule and let him half-drag me. Neither on the road nor off it—only one foot dragging in a wheel rut at the end. Neither naked nor dressed—merely wrapped in a fishing net. Oh, don’t look so shocked! There was so much rope around me that you could see less skin than I’m showing now.

If I’d hoped to disappoint Alistair, well, I was disappointed. He radiated joy. I’d never seen him truly smile before that moment—it was incandescent delight. He swept me in his arms, gave me a kiss without a hint of calculation in it, then had me taken off to be properly dressed, and we were married within a week.

It was a wonderful marriage. We got along beautifully—at least until the next time I outwitted him. But I won’t bore you with that story again—

You don’t know that one either? Where have you been hiding yourself?

Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that one. Not if it’s your first time. It’s much better the way Alistair tells it.

What time is it?

Perfect! He’s in his library just now. Go there and ask him to tell you the whole thing.

Yes, right now! What are you waiting for?

Alistair

Faith told you all that, did she? And sent you to me for the rest? That woman! It’s just like her! She thinks I have nothing better to do than sit around all day and gossip about our courtship!

Where are you going? I never said I wouldn’t tell the story! Honestly, does no one have brains these days? Sit down!

Yes, yes, anywhere you like. One chair’s as good as another—I built this room for comfort. Do you take tea? I can ring for a tray—the story tends to run long.

Well, I’ll ring for the usual, and you can help yourself to whatever you like.

I’m sure Faith has given you a colorful picture of what I was like as a young man, and she’s not totally inaccurate. I’d had wealth and power and too much education thrown on me far too young, and I thought my blessings made me better than other men. My own father had been the type of man who could be fooled by every silver-tongued charlatan in the land, so I was sensitive and suspicious, determined to never let another man outwit me.

When Faith came to her father’s defense, it was like my entire self came crumbling down. Suddenly, I wasn’t the wise king; I was a cruel and foolish boy—but Faith made me want to be better. That day was the start of my fascination with her, and my courtship started in earnest not long after.

The riddle? Yes, I can see how that would be confusing. Faith tends to skip over the explanations there. A riddle’s an odd proposal, but I thought it was brilliant at the time, and I still think it wasn’t totally wrong-headed. I wasn’t just finding a wife, you see, but a queen. Riddles have a long history in royal courtships. I spent weeks laboring over mine. I had some idea of a symbolic proposal—each element indicating how she’d straddle two worlds to be with me. But more than that, I wanted to see if Faith could move beyond binary thinking—look beyond two opposites to see the third option between. Kings and queens have to do that more often than you’d think…

No, I’m sorry, it is a bit dull, isn’t it? I guess there’s a reason Faith skips over the explanations.

So to return to the point: no matter what Faith tells you, I always intended for her to solve the riddle. I wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t—but I wouldn’t have asked if I’d had the least doubt she’d succeed. The moment she came up that road was the most ridiculous spectacle you’d ever hope to see, but I had never known such ecstasy. She’d solved every piece of my riddle, in just the way I’d intended. She understood my mind and gained my heart. Oh, it was glorious.

Those first weeks of marriage were glorious, too. You’d think it’d be an adjustment, turning a farmer’s daughter into a queen, but it was like Faith had been born to the role. Manners are just a set of rules, and Faith has a sharp mind for memorization, and it’s not as though we’re a large kingdom or a very formal court. She had a good mind for politics, and was always willing to listen and learn. I was immensely proud of myself for finding and catching the perfect wife.

You’re smarter than I was—you can see where I was going wrong. But back then, I didn’t see a cloud in the sky of our perfect happiness until the storm struck.

It seemed like such a small thing at the time. I was looking over the fields of some nearby villages—farming innovations were my chief interest at the time. There were so many fascinating developments in those days. I’ve an entire shelf full of texts if you’re interested—

The story, yes. My apologies. The offer still stands.

Anyway, I was out in the fields, and it was well past the midday hour. I was starving, and more than a little overheated, so we were on our way to a local inn for a bit of food and rest. Just as I was at my most irritable, these farmers’ wives show up, shrilly demanding judgment in a case of theirs. I’d become known for making those on-the-spot decisions. I’d thought it was an efficient use of government resources—as long as I was out with the people, I could save them the trouble of complicated procedures with the courts—but I’d never regretted taking up the practice as heartily as I did in this moment.

The case was like this: one farmer’s horse had recently given birth, and the foal had wandered away from its mother and onto the neighbor’s property, where it laid down underneath an ox that was at pasture, and the second farmer thought this gave him a right to keep it. There were questions of fences and boundaries and who-owed-who for different trades going back at least a couple of decades—those women were determined to bring every past grievance to light in settling this case.

Well, it didn’t take long for me to lose what little patience I had. I snapped at both women and told them that my decision was that the foal could very well stay where it was.

Not my most reasoned decision, but it wasn’t totally baseless. I had common law going back centuries that supported such a ruling. Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all. It wasn't as though a single foal was worth so much fuss. I went off to my meal and thought that was the end of it.

I’d forgotten all about it by the time I returned to the same village the next week. My man and I were crossing the bridge leading into the town when we found the road covered by a fishing net. An old man sat by the side of the road, shaking and casting the net just as if he were laying it out for a catch.

“What do you think you’re doing, obstructing a public road like this?” I asked him.

The man smiled genially at me and replied, “Fishing, majesty.”

I thought perhaps the man had a touch of sunstroke, so I was really rather kind when I explained to him how impossible it was to catch fish in the roadway.

The man just replied, “It’s no more impossible than an ox giving birth to a foal, majesty.”

He said it like he’d been coached, and it didn’t take long for me to learn that my wife was behind it all. The farmer’s wife who’d lost the foal had come to Faith for help, and my wife had advised the farmer to make the scene I’d described.

Oh, was I livid! Instead of coming to me in private to discuss her concerns about the ruling, Faith had made a public spectacle of me. She encouraged my own subjects to mock me! This was what came of making a farm girl into a queen! She’d live in my house and wear my jewels, and all the time she was laughing up her sleeve at me while she incited my citizens to insurrection! Before long, none of my subjects would respect me. I’d lose my crown, and the kingdom would fall to pieces—

I worked myself into a fine frenzy, thinking such things. At the time, I thought myself perfectly reasonable. I had identified a threat to the kingdom’s stability, and I would deal with it. The moment I came home, I found Faith and declared that the marriage was dissolved. “If you prefer to side with the farmers against your own husband,” I told her, “you can go back to your father’s house and live with them!”

It was quite the tantrum. I’m proud to say I’ve never done anything so shameful since.

To my surprise, Faith took it all silently. None of the fire that she showed in defending her father against me. Faith had this way, back then, where she could look at a man and make him feel like an utter fool. At that moment, she made me feel like a monster. I was already beginning to regret what I was doing, but it was buried under so much anger that I barely realized it, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to back down so easily from another decision.

After I said my piece, Faith quietly asked if she was to leave the palace with nothing.

I couldn’t reverse what I’d decided, but I could soften it a bit.

“You may take one keepsake,” I told her. “Take the one thing you love best from our chambers.”

I thought I was clever to make the stipulation. Knowing Faith, she’d have found some way to move the entire palace and count it as a single item. I had no doubt she’d take the most expensive and inconvenient thing she could, but there was nothing in that set of rooms I couldn’t afford to lose.

Or so I thought. No doubt you’re beginning to see that Faith always gets the upper hand in a battle of wits.

I kept my distance that evening—let myself stew in resentment so I couldn’t regret what I’d done. I kept to my library—not this one, the little one upstairs in our suite—trying to distract myself with all manner of books, and getting frustrated when I found I wanted to share pieces of them with Faith. I was downright relieved when a maid came by with a tea tray. I drank my usual three cups so quickly I barely tasted them—and I passed out atop my desk five minutes later.

Yes, Faith had arranged for the tea—and she’d drugged me!

I came to in the pink light of early dawn, my head feeling like it had been run over by a military caravan. My wits were never as slow as they were that morning. I laid stupidly for what felt like hours, wondering why my bed was so narrow and lumpy, and why the walls of the room were so rough and bare, and why those infernal birds were screaming half an inch from my open window.

By the time I had enough strength to sit up, I could see that I was in the bedroom of a farmer’s cottage. Faith was standing by the window, looking out at the sunrise, wearing the dress she’d worn the first day I met her. Her hair was unbound, tumbling in golden waves all the way to her ankles. My heart leapt at the sight—her hair was one of the wonders of the world in those days, and I was so glad to see her when I felt so ill—until I remembered the events of the previous day, and was too confused and ashamed to have room for any other thoughts or feelings.

“Faith?” I asked. “Why are you here? Where am I?”

“My father’s home,” Faith replied, her eyes downcast—I think it’s the only time in her life she was ever bashful. “You told me I could take the one thing I loved best.”

Can I explain to you how my heart leapt at those words? There had never been a mind or a heart like my wife’s! It was like the moment she’d come to save her father—she made me feel a fool and feel glad for the reminder. I’d made the same mistake both times—let my head get in the way of my heart. She never made that mistake, thank heaven, and it saved us both.

Do you have something you want to add, Faith, darling? Don’t pretend I can’t see you lurking in the stacks and laughing at me! I’ll get as sappy as I like! If you think you can do it better, come out in the open and finish this story properly!

Faith

You tell it so beautifully, my darling fool boy, but if you insist—

I was forever grateful Dinah took that tea to Alistair. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the loophole in his words—I was so afraid he’d see my ploy coming and stop me. But his wits were so blessedly dull that day. It was like outwitting a child.

When at last he came to, I was terrified. He had cast me out because I’d outwitted him, and now here I was again, thinking another clever trick would make everything well.

Fortunately, Alistair was marvelous—saw my meaning in an instant. Sometimes he can be almost clever.

After that, what’s there to tell? We made up our quarrel, and then some. Alistair brought me back to the palace in high honors—it was wonderful, the way he praised me and took so much blame on himself.

(You were really rather too hard on yourself, darling—I’d done more than enough to make any man rightfully angry. Taking you to Father’s house was my chance to apologize.)

Alistair paid the farmer for the loss of his foal, paid for the mending of the fence that had led to the trouble in the first place, and straightened out the legal tangles that had the neighbors at each others’ throats.

After that, things returned much to the way they’d been before, except that Alistair was careful never to think himself into such troubles again. We’ve gotten older, and I hope wiser, and between our quarrels and our reconciliations, we’ve grown into quite the wise pair of lovestruck fools. Take heed from it, whenever you marry—it’s good to have a clever spouse, but make sure you have one who’s willing to be the fool every once in a while.

Trust me. It works out for the best.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #inklingschallenge #four loves fairy tale challenge #four loves fairy tale challenge 2024 #the farmer's clever daughter #theme: eros #story: complete #this one was *so much fun*#i was grinning throughout the brainstorming process #faith and alistair just *loved* telling me their story #and especially in the first scenes i kept stopping just because i was having so much fun with the lines #maybe it's horribly boring to read but as a writing exercise it was fantastic #i love these two so much #i haven't had this much fun since writing last year's epistolary story

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zahri-melitor · 5 months

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Dick isn't Damian's Parent

Thinking again about the push to see Dick as parental towards Damian and the reasons it does not land for me (and is not my reading of the Dick!Bats era):

There’re a few points I want to establish up front:

Not every person who cares for or supervises a child is their parent or guardian.

Having the ability to set boundaries and consequences for a child is more persuasive of parenting but not determinative.

My fundamental determination is the ability to make decisions on behalf of the child and about the child, including in respect to boundaries and consequences, is what places a person in a parental position to a child.

If you have ever spent any time around parenting groups or online parenting forums, you have heard the debate over “the dad is not ‘babysitting his kids’ he’s parenting”. (My apologies for everyone who just experienced immediate war flashbacks) But while this traditional devaluing of what is expected from fathers in relation to active parenting of their children, it’s a discussion that at its core has an important kernel of truth: when is the person supervising a child parenting the kid, and when are they a carer? And in traditional divisions of childrearing, fathers did not do a lot of the hands-on parenting, leading to the ‘babysitting the kids for the wife’ joke. Because the guts of parenting: setting boundaries; setting and enforcing consequences; the day to day ‘keeping a kid alive’ work of food and clothing and medical appointments; of supervising children; of teaching rules and emotional regulation; of making care decisions on their behalf? A lot of that fell on the mother. (Even in that awful dynamic of the consequence of bad behaviour being ‘wait til your father gets home (as he’ll belt you)’ from a mother, she’s still the one establishing the boundary that was broken, and setting the consequence – seeing the father for discipline).

Fundamentally, the relationship between a superhero and their sidekick is not a necessarily parental one. It’s better framed as mentoring, particularly when there’s an adult-child dynamic in the relationship. Is Dick!Bats and Tim!Robin a parent-child relationship? No, even though Dick actually spends a chunk of their time teaching Tim skills and mentoring him (including housework! Actually a lot of housework! Dick cooks for Tim and gets him to help sweep and shows him how to do laundry).

‘Is Dick parenting Damian’ comes accompanied by a second question: is Alfred parenting Damian? Because I will happily argue that Alfred is doing the lion’s share of day to day childcare of Damian outside of costume.

If we define the period that Dick has effective custody of Damian as Battle for the Cowl to Flashpoint (given Bruce is only intermittently home between his return and Flashpoint), then we have a number on panel moments outside of things that are pure vigilante field decisions that should be considered in regards to ‘who is Damian’s parent’.

We have Alfred declaring that someone needs to take responsibility for Damian (as he won’t, step up Dick). However. Once Alfred has arranged the situation to his liking (aka he is not the Official Person In Charge of Damian), he…proceeds to act exactly like he always does in regards to anyone living in the Wayne household: he cooks their food, cleans their clothes, supervises underage members of the household during the day when other people aren’t around, tends their injuries, may send them to bed, is arguably educating Damian during this period if Damian is in fact receiving any formal education (Damian is not in school during Reborn), etc. This is actually a massive chunk of the day to day responsibilities of parenting. Now, that doesn’t make Alfred Damian’s parent: first of all there’s the ‘Alfred is paid to do this’ aspect of Alfred’s relationship with all the Waynes, which can never be overlooked, just like another family might hire a babysitter or an au pair or a nanny or a servant/’help’ to do a lot of the basic labour associated with raising a kid. Or that child might be in daycare or school where they are again under paid adult supervision. Secondly, Alfred very clearly is disclaiming his responsibility for making decisions on behalf of Damian. He is saying it is not his job to arrange education for Damian or to financially support him, or to set boundaries and consequences for Damian’s actions. He can and will enforce rules and boundaries others set, but he won’t decide what they should be.

Setting Boundaries and Consequences This is something I do agree Dick does somewhat, in regards to Damian. However I will point out he is…not great at it.

This is a major issue, as Damian is in desperate need of boundaries given his upbringing, even more than an average child his age, and his testing those boundaries is rarely reacted to in an adequate manner to make Damian feel safe while still enforcing consequences for bad behaviour. (This is a recurring problem for Damian as a character ever since his introduction, up to the present, actually).

There are a lot of children who have parents who are bad at setting boundaries and consequences. Ask any teacher or coach (or any parent about That Kid at playgroup). But it’s also a sign of someone who’s not actually parenting a child, particularly when there isn’t a more convincing argument for why that person is the ‘parent’ (such as legal responsibility as parent/guardian).

There are three prominent moments I can pick out around the early Dick and Damian relationship over Dick enforcing boundaries and consequences with Damian: the Red Robin #1 fight Dick breaks up between Tim and Damian; the Hit List fight in Red Robin #14 between Tim and Damian; and the War of the Robins situation in Batman & Robin (2011), particularly Dick’s reaction in #12.

In short: Dick is trying what’s commonly considered ‘gentle’ parenting, but fails to enforce any consequences for Damian’s actions. Let’s go through this.

Red Robin #1: this is the least parental and most big brother and ‘overwhelmed and just reacting’ of all three situations. In terms of what Dick does towards Damian’s actions: he tells Damian to ‘shut up’ after insulting Tim, twice; and grabs Tim to stop him punching Damian again. We don’t ever see whether Dick talks to Damian about his language or attitude (because it’s not a comic focused on Damian), but honestly this shouldn’t be considered parenting; Dick’s a frustrated older brother here breaking up a fight between two of his siblings. His focus is to the stop the fight and then attempt to continue the conversation he was having with Tim about the support Dick’s looking to get from Tim. The consequence of Damian’s behaviour is being told to shut up, which…eh. Unlikely to be effective in any way.

Red Robin #14: Again focusing on the situation that Dick walked into – he gets the story of what happened from Tim and Damian (we the readers know it wasn’t a full story, but Dick’s working with what they said). Dick then validates Damian’s feelings and sends him out of the room to recover while saying he’ll talk to Tim about this, and proceeds to work with Tim to stop the situation happening again (by talking through what Damian’s feeling with Tim, and then working with Tim to upgrade his password). Notably, while Damian has his hurt emotions recognised, Dick never points out to Damian that Tim should be able to expect for Damian not to snoop through a password protected computer file and it’s Damian’s own fault for looking and getting hurt. There are no shown consequences from Dick to Damian over ‘this is the result of you breaking a boundary (hacking Tim’s files)’. I again note this is in Red Robin, but that conversation does not say that Dick will come and talk to Damian once Damian’s cooled off. Dick’s actually managing to parent Tim better here on page than he does Damian.

The reason I’m not convinced there was any follow through from Dick to Damian in Red Robin #14? Batman & Robin #12 (2011).

Batman & Robin #12 (2011): in this issue we again see Dick stepping in to acknowledge Damian’s feelings, after Damian’s just declared ‘war’ on Dick, Jason and Tim to ‘defeat’ them and show his superiority as Robin (and take a trophy). They’ve just finished a boss fight and Damian offers to drive the other three back in the Batmobile. Tim and Jason extract themselves from this with the minimum level of politeness possible. Dick takes up the offer and at that point says to Damian: “you don’t need to try so hard, Damian. If you hadn’t noticed, kid, you’re already wearing the ‘R’ on your chest” and proceeds to hand Damian one of his escrima sticks as a ‘trophy’. This is again an example of Dick validating Damian’s emotions about a situation (feeling he needs to compete to be the best), but fails to provide Damian any boundary over his actions here. Damian gets to keep the ‘trophies’ he took from attacking his siblings without warning. He doesn’t get explained to him that this behaviour is unacceptable and why Jason and Tim have refused his offer to drive them home and left precipitously. Dick doesn’t talk out the situation with Damian and work through what he should do next time when he feels hurt or overlooked, and about how he should respect Tim and Jason’s boundaries and spaces.

This is a common failure point seen in parents pursuing gentle parenting options in the modern era. They acknowledge the child’s emotions over the situation (good!) but provide no follow through on why the situation arose in the first place and how to avoid it happening again (and in the case of bad behaviour, some level of consequence/discipline, even if it is ‘and that’s why your friend doesn’t want to play with you’ or a time out or an apology).

Really, Dick’s not setting adequate boundaries for Damian’s behaviour, particularly in terms of family/civilian behaviour not vigilante behaviour. And he’s definitely not holding Damian to consequences (outside of outraged yells of ‘Damian!’ or ‘Robin!’ at bad behaviour in the field) for his actions.

Decision Making Power

The main evidence of Dick asserting the power to make decisions on behalf of Damian during this period is over Damian being Robin. He ‘gives’ the mantle to Damian and sanctions taking him out as Robin. He tells the Teen Titans to take Damian on the team. Dick also chooses that they will live at Wayne Tower not the Manor. He does not really make any other decisions on panel on behalf of Damian during this period, as an individual outside the mantle (and within the mantle Dick can choose these things anyway, as Batman, as the original Robin, and as someone with a lot of authority over what a Titans team is). He states or jokes to Damian that the position of Robin is conditional (“I can still offer Tim Drake his old job back”). He accepts responsibility for being a carer for Damian when Alfred pushes it on him, but is frequently reactive rather than active in terms of making decisions.

And he does not exercise decision making power, he actively defers to two people he sees as having more authority to make decisions on behalf of Damian: Bruce and Talia.

Dick doesn’t question Talia’s right to walk in and arrange medical treatment for Damian after he’s been shot and his back broken. He also accepts Bruce’s decision to leave Damian in Dick’s custody after his return and not initially take over care as a decision Bruce has the right to make on both their behalf.

I’m aware of the panels far later on when Dick tells Damian he considered fighting to adopt Damian, but alongside being writer metacommentary later on rather than textual back in 2010-2011, it’s simply not something that would have been possible; for Dick to adopt Damian would have been a fight given that he had two living parents who legally were still considered fit parents for Damian. A custody dispute resulting in “actually the 10 year old is going to live full time with his older brother, who will have legal guardianship” would be something that required legal sign off from a judge, who in that circumstance would have concluded that both Talia and Bruce were unfit to have custody of their child. Now whether or not Talia is a fit parent for Damian is obviously up in the air (if you know about the LOA), but at this point publicly, Bruce has cared for Damian adequately: he took Damian in in being informed of his existence, he provides and pays for all of Damian’s needs, he pays for home supervision of Damian when he’s away (Alfred), Damian’s living in one of Bruce’s houses (the Penthouse)… the family law system is probably only going to have an issue with Damian’s education situation, and that can be clarified by either on page confirmation he’s either enrolled at a school or is being homeschooled, but there is no evidence of any abuse or neglect that would have a judge decide to remove parental responsibility from Bruce, or make it supervised only.

Conclusion:

Dick caring for Damian does not make him Damian’s parent. There’s the possibility inherent in that if Bruce had never returned and Dick had eventually made the moves to have Bruce declared dead, he would have taken over legal guardianship of Damian and learned to act more as his parent, but in the circumstances we see on the page during Reborn and up to Damian’s death, particularly with Dick’s immediate deferral to Damian’s biological parents, he’s better described as a carer for Damian, or part of the village it takes to raise a child. He has a lot more responsibility than your average older sibling does, or even a mentor, but he’s not acting in a way that suggests Dick believes he has the right to make all the decisions about Damian’s care and on behalf of Damian.

#dc meta #dick grayson #damian wayne

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